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User blog:WayfinderOwl/BTM: Free Wedgie Included 6
Wandering After Midnight No one was around. Silent darkness. All that could be heard was the clock on the tower above the school ticking away. Tick, tock, tick, tock. ''Over and over. A single tap against my dorm door told me it was time. I headed out the door. Russell awaited me. There were two other kids heading out, Earnest Jones, and that Melvin kid. That was the rules. The combatants had to leave first. An hour later, everyone else was allowed to sneak to the basement. When the clock chimed midnight, the battle begun. I waited five minutes. Slowly opened the door, and peeked out. The prefects were gone. Either to their dorms or home. I nodded to Russell. We slipped out the door. Slowly I moved across the yard, through the plaza, through the school yard, around near the car park. Down the stairs to the basement. Russell took over, leading us through the labyrinth like rooms. Through the furnace room was a long sewer like corridor leading to a circular pit like a large deep swimming pool. Rusty ladders lead down. A cage wall divided the audience from the combatants. All of the clique leaders and their seconds had gathered. The entire school joined, watching through the mesh of the cage. The school janitor had a sick look of pleasure in his eyes. He was the commentator, but he never bothered to learn the names, only referring to them by some insult about their appearance. Russell climbed down the stairs. Walked to the center of the pit, his arms raised high roaring to the applaud. Derby Harrington, a blond haired white boy in an Aquaberry argyle sweater followed him. He exuded charisma and wealth. There was a look in his eye of boredom. As if all of us were not worth his time. Greasy haired troubled Johnny Vincent, with a stud earring in his left ear. Slimy gangly light brown haired Earnest Jones. His eyes framed by half moon spectacles. Ted Thompson was every bit a jock. Tall. Thick brown hair. Muscular in an almost steroid kind of way. Good looking. The janitor rung a bell, and the brawl begun. Earnest was the first to taste bitter defeat. Russell roared like a bear, beating his fits against his chest. Punch after punch thrown, leaving its mark on his gangly form. Earnest didn’t stand a chance. He moved, Russell caught him. The Nerd King fell to the ground. The moment Russell left one fight, the other clique leaders were on him. Russell’s brute force was great, but nothing when facing three different fighting styles at once. Derby’s quick foot and moves of a boxer. Johnny’s streetwise strength, developed over years of fighting. The rough but powerful tackle of the quarterback, that Ted Thompson threw at his adversary. He gave fighting his best shot, but they were too much for him. He aimed his strength at one, the other two aimed another punch. I shouted, “Watch out, Russell!” as Johnny Vincent hit the final blow. Russell slumped to the ground, groaning in pain. The brawl was given a time out, while the members of their clique removed their leader. The seven of us went down into the pit, I stayed. I was Russell’s second after all. Ted flexed his biceps and winked at the girls, almost like he felt nothing for the fight. Nor took any notice. Derby and Johnny were exchanging insults as well as punches. Melvin charged towards me, declaring, “The time has come for you to taste the full power of my wrath!” His arms flailed like a windmill. I stepped aside, holding out my foot. He tripped, crashing his full pudgy weight to the ground. I grabbed the elastic of his underpants, and pulled them upwards as hard as I could. He let out a scream like a little girl. I flung him against the wall. Melvin muttered a few words about dragons and elves, then fainted. Abruptly, I felt a punch to the back of the head. So sudden, the force jerked me forward. My head bumped against the wall. I slumped to the ground. Everything after that was pure darkness. ^^^^ “Are you alright?” !My head,” I groaned. “Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” I opened my eyes. Three swaying fingers blurred into nine. Blurry and almost shapeless. Six. Nine. Six. Then three again. Three slender fingers, and behind them the face of Beatrice. Green glasses, cold sores and all. Her brown eyes were filled with concern. “Three. What happened,” I mumbled. “You banged your head,” Beatrice told me. “I mean, after that.” “Johnny beat Derby. Then Bif. He seemed so very exhausted. Ted defeated him—basking in the adoration of girls preserved his strength. Peanut was quick, but not quick enough.” I let out a laugh. “So, the Jocks won. I’m not surprised.” “Jocks will always be school royalty.” I slowly sat up, rubbing the back of my head with my hand. The pain hurt like a bitch, but it was something I could live through. Many questions swirled around my head, such as why Beatrice was here with me, and not Earnest or Melvin. “You’re awake,” said Pete. He stood on the slimy grating, holding a can of beam cola. Pete went onto explain that he had crept up to the school building, to fetch me a drink. I popped open the can, drank the brown sugar water. The taste was so sweet it was almost bitter. A welcome burst of sugar. I felt like shit, and was looking forward to going to sleep into my ratty blanketed bed. Most of the student body had dispersed. Russell helped me up onto my feet. He slipped his hand under my arm, lifted me right up off the ground and set me down on my feet. A rush of dizziness pulsed through my whole body. “Thanks, Russell,” I muttered. “Josh fight well,” Russell commented. “I’m sorry we didn’t win.” “Josh tried his best. Russell tried his best.” Russell shrugged his broad shoulders. “Russell and Josh try. We win next year.” ^^^^ I sat on my bed, staring at the dirty grey and wood panel wall. All my thoughts were caught up in the dirty pit. Coated with grime, blood, sweat and tears. So many boys fighting to prove they are stronger. No one really won anything. Ted only walked away with the crown because he waited for everyone else to get tired. Wearily, I rose from the bed. Approached the mahogany desk. The drawing I found on the beach lay flat on the surface, held in place by crushed beam cola cans. One sweep of my hand brushed them aside. I raised the drawing to the light, taking another look at the haunting depth. Seeing the boy on his knees, screaming for something, reminded me of my own childhood. All the times when I wanted to scream out for help. Smash the window of all the damp closet of rooms my parents gave me in my life, and escape into the empty darkness of the night. This drawing meant everything I used to feel, until I came to Bullworth. I set it back down. Pulled open the top draw. Rummaged around, searching for some tacks, to keep the drawing where I will always see it. “Ouch,” I exclaimed, retracting my finger from the cluttered draw. I sucked on my finger, washing away the blood from my flesh. “Found one,” I said, around my finger. I took four tacks, and pinned the picture to the wall. ''Perfect, I deemed it. The page was a little torn and beaten around the edges. A pristine page would have destroyed the tortured mood. I turned. Gary leaned against the frame of the open door. His piercing brown gaze staring through me. He seemed different. Calm, but cruel. Silent but calculating. “Looks like I’m not the only one to enjoy the quiet solitude of the night,” said Gary. “What do you want Gary? What I do is none of your business.” Gary pushed himself away from the frame with his elbow. He crossed the threshold of the room. Barely two feet away from me, he came to a stop. His eyes absorbing the triangles and scribbles of the drawing. “You draw that?” he said, pointing a single finger at it. “No. And it is none of your business where I got it.” Gary turned his back to me. He let out a laugh. “You will be surprised what is my business.” He approached the store, stopping just before the frame. “Do send my regards to your boyfriend.” “Where do you get off pushing him around?” I demanded. Gary turned his head. “None of your business.” Gary quit the room, leaving me in silence. Aside from standing up for Pete, who was too afraid to do it himself, I had done nothing to him. There he was, practically everywhere I turned. I sat on the desk, looking at the dirt covered window. Flecks of light shone in through the gaps in the coat of dirt. Pete entered my room, wearing blue pajamas. He had a cut on his forehead, and the makings of a killer shiner on his eye. “What happened?” I asked, concerned. “Gary,” Pete replied. “He called me a moron and pushed me into the wall.” “Sorry about that. He was in here a couple of minutes ago. Practically talking in riddles.” “Can I stay in here tonight?” Pete asked. “The lock on my door is broken.” I nodded. “Sure, man. I brought a sleeping bag with me. It is at the bottom of my wardrobe.” Pete walked over to the wardrobe, opened it and retrieved the brown sleeping bag. “Why did you bring this to school, anyway?” “In case I didn’t fit in these dorms. Then I could find some little spare building and sleep there.” I helped Pete roll out the sleeping bag on the wooden floor. Locked the door with my key, to make sure Gary didn’t try anything in the four hours between that moment and the 8 o’clock alarm that rang through my room. “Josh, could you keep the light on?” asked Pete, spreading himself out in the brown sleeping bag. “I know it is stupid, but I’m scared of the dark.” “Ur… I guess so… hold on a minute.” I remembered there were two things left in the box unclaimed. A torch and a hardback notebook. We had practically destroyed the box, retrieving the many items from it. I pulled out the torch, and turned it on. Set it down on the ground near the sleeping bag, aimed towards the desk. Not exactly a powerful light, but it will do. “Thanks, Josh,” said Pete. “You’re welcome, Pete,” I replied. I switched off the light, before climbing into my own bed. Pulled the ratty old blanket over myself. “Josh?” “Pete?” “What was it like fighting in the hole?” “Horrible.” “Really? Or are you just saying that?” “Pete, I’m serious. If Russell asks me next year to be his second, I’m going to refuse.” “So you are planning to stick around this dump then.” “Naturally. I do have all that money after all.” “I’m going to sleep. Night, Josh.” “Sleep well, Pete.” Category:Blog posts Category:WayfinderOwl's Fanfiction